SUPER CELEBRITY SLUGFEST!
by Theodore Barrington
Summary: Random celebrities (and fictitious characters) are thrown into an arena to fight to the death. Or at least the first really serious owie. Heavily inspired (obviously) by Celebrity Deathmatch. Starring Fox and Wolf from Super Smash Brothers Smackdown.
1. Prologue: A New Job

[Wolf meets Fox outside an office door]

Wolf: Hello, Fox.

Fox: 'sup?

Wolf: Any idea why Master Hand wants to see us?

Fox: Not a clue.

[They go inside]

Master Hand: Hello, boys.

Wolf: Good morning, Master Hand.

Fox: Whattup Handman!

Wolf: Fox, don't be rude!

Fox: Shut-up, Wolf. Me and Hand are cool.

Master Hand: You know it.

[He curls into a fist, which Fox pounds. He ignores Wolf.]

Master Hand: How's the leg, Fox?

Fox: Still broken.

Master Hand: Yeah? Tell you what, once we're done here, head down to the infirmary for a Life Mushroom?

Wolf: Woah, how come I didn't get a Life Mushroom when both my arms got broken last year?

Master Hand: Shut-up, Wolf. Nobody likes a complainer.

Fox: So what's the go, Bosshand?

Master: Look boys, I know you're fresh off Super Smash Smackdown, but I've got another job for you.

Fox: What kind of job?

Master Hand: Word is the bigwigs upstairs are looking for a pair of commentators for a new fic, and since you guys were such a smash in your last gig, I've put you forward. It's a tourney similar to Smackdown, between the famous people both real and fictional of that particular dimension.

Wolf: And they just want us to watch the matches and narrate what happens?

Hand: Bingo baby-cakes.

[Fox and Wolf exchange looks]

Fox: Well gee, boss, it's tempting...

Wolf:... but we kinda have other plans...

Hand: Yeeeeeah...you actually don't have a choice...

Wolf: Huh?

Fox: Woah, hold on now...

[Master Hand snaps his fingers, summoning a portal and shoves Fox and Wolf towards it]

Hand: You kids have fun now and stay safe, buh-bye!

Wolf: No don't-

Fox: Oh you-

[They pass through and the portal seals up behind them. The worm tunnel is psychedelic as funk and the furry friends trip major balls as they tunnel through the very fabric of time and space itself until they emerge blinking and dizzy out the other side.[

Wolf: I BEG YOU!

Fox:...son of a...hey we're hear!

[They look around, seeing that they are in the commentators box of a colossal stadium, jam-packed with spectators, cameras, the works. Unseen hands press a script into both their hands.]

Voice: And we're live in three...two...one...go!

Fox: Uh...ladies and gentlemen, welcome to Omniverse Arena! I'm Fox McCloud...

Wolf: And I'm Wolf O'Donnell, and you're watching...

Both: SUPER. CELEBRITY. SLUGFEEEEEEEEEEEST!

Fox: We'll be right back after these messages.


	2. 1D vs Justin Bieber

Fox: Welcome back ladies and gentlemen, I'm Fox McCloud...

Wolf:...and I'm Wolf O'Donnell. Tonight's match-up is a battle of the tween pop sensations as boy band One Direction square off against Justin Bieber.

Fox: A friendly reminder to the audience tonight that all battles are to the death and anything goes.

Wolf: Wow...that doesn't seem gratuitous to you?

Fox: Shut-up, Wolf. Just stick to the script.

Wolf: *sigh* I hope you are all ready for some primo carnage-o tonight.

Fox: We have a standard setup crates provided for cover, junk scattered around for use as improvised weapons and claymores scattered around the ring.

Wolf: I'm pretty sure that's anything but standard.

Fox: Shut up, Wolf. Let's cross to the one and only Michael Buffer down in the ring.

Buffer: Llllllladies and Gentlemen! In the red white and blue corner, the ...[he shudders] sultan of swag: Justin Bieberrrrrrrr!

[Bieber struts out, cap back to front, pants around his knees and wearing a douchey sunglasses, tank top combo. The crowd cheers, but less out or support, more out of bloodlust]

Buffer: Aaaaaand in the Lime corner Ooooooome Directiooooon...

[The 1D emerge to equal cheering. They're also cocky, but more tastefully dressed.]

Wolf: Both sides are sizing each other up. One Direction has the numbers but Bieber seems to have the aggressive edge.

Bieber: What the *bleep* did you say to me *bleep*? I'll beat the *bleep* out of you *bleep*!

Liam: I said, I wish you the best of luck and may the best artist win.

Fox: Looks like the customary trash talk has already started, though I don't think One Direction has quite got the hang of it.

Wolf: Guess not. And now over to the Ref, Mister Chuck Norris.

[Chuck Norris roundhouse kicks a ninja into a gong, signalling the start of the bout.]

Wolf: Already the Britt boys are looking around for weapons.

Fox: Bieber, meanwhile, seems to be perfectly content standing in the middle of the ring, flipping them off. As far as strategy goes, that's right up there with burying your head in sand or mooning the audience. What a twerp.

Wolf: Louis has gotten a hold of a beer bottle and smashed it against one of the crates. Zayn has picked up a chain while Harry is brandishing a monkey wrench.

Fox: Niall and Liam are just rolling up their sleeves. I guess they're content with using their bare fists.

Wolf: The boys are advancing on Bieber, who still doesn't seem bothered. I wonder if he even knows he's in a fight!

Harry: You know, you've got that one thing... and I'm gonna knock it off your face!

Louis: It ain't hard to tell, you don't know you're about to die choking on your own blood!

Liam: Nothing personal!

Fox: Well their trash talk hasn't improved, but now isn't the time for talk, it's time for violence!

Wolf: Wait, Bieber is making a move, pulling a Beretta pistol from his waistband!

Fox: The Britt boys are scrambling for cover as Bieber starts firing "gangsta style."

*Blam!* *Blam!* *Blam!*

Bieber: Yeah! Eat it! Eat it! What now *bleep* what now?

Fox: Good question. Not a lot melee weapons can do against a gun.

Wolf: The boys are safe behind the crates for now.

Fox: Actually I think they're safe because Bieber is a terrible shot.

Wolf: Also true.

*Blam!* *click* *click*

Fox: Now Bieber is out of ammo, perhaps One Direction can make a move.

Wolf: Harry sticks his head up and sees Bieber trying to find another clip for his gun. Seeing an opportunity, Harry raises his monkey wrench and charges!

Harry: Hiyaaaaaaaah!

Fox: Bieber fumbles with another clip...

Wolf: But Harry is nearly on top of him.

Fox: Harry swings...

*BLAM!*

[Harry's head explodes]

Fox: Holy *bleep!* What the hell was that?

Wolf: Look, Fox! There are three figures up in the rafters and one of them is holding a sniper rifle!

Fox: Whoever they are, they're abseiling down into the ring.

Wolf: The ref hasn't stopped the match, so it must be ok.

Fox: The figures pull back their balaclavas...it's...it's...uh, I have no idea who these guys are.

Wolf: It's the Jonas brothers!

Fox: Oh. I knew that.

[Nick, gestures for a mic while his brothers train their weapons in the direction of One Direction.]

Bieber: The *bleep* are you doing here?

Nick: Don't worry Biebs, we're on your side. We also know what it's like to be adored by many one day and irrelevant the next.

Bieber: The *bleep* do you mean irrel...irrel...that word?

Nick: Easy tiger, it's not me you wanna be angry at, but these putzes who took your glory.

Wolf: That's done it! Bieber reloads and joins the Jonas brothers firing at One Direction

*Blam!* *Blam!*

*Brakka Brakka*

*CHOOM!* *CHOOM!*

*BLAM!*

Fox: A crate is completely shredded, leaving Louis and Zayn exposed.

Wolf: The boys run, but Kevin draws a bead on Louis with his assault rifle and fires...

*Brakka*

Wolf:..Louis takes a round to the leg and goes down!

Fox: But Zayn drags him behind cover.

Nick: Great work guys, that'll teach these slimy Limeys to mess with Americans!

Bieber: And Canadians!

Nick: Wait, you mean you're not American?

Bieber: *bleep* no!

Nick: You conniving Canuck bastard!

*CHOOM!*  
*Blam!*  
*BLAM!*  
*PANG!*

Fox:...what...what just happened?

Wolf: I don't know. Let's check the slow-mo instant replay.

Fox: This is insane! In a fit of anger, Nick blasts Bieber off his feet with his shotgun, causing Bieber's fingers to spasm and pull the trigger of his Baretta. The bullet misses Nick, but hits Joe in the eye as he turns. This causes Joe to fire his rifle and the bullet ricochets off the ring's reinforced wall, punching right through his neck.

Wolf: Incredible! Just like that, three are dead, by sheer fluke!

Fox: Only Kevin remains, standing in shock and wearing the blood of his brothers.

Wolf: Hang on, he's shaking off his stupor and raising his assault rifle.

Kevin: You killed my brothers you *bleep* *bleep* *bleep*ing *bleep*ers!

Wolf: Well that's technically incorrect, but we get the point.

Fox: With a cry of rage, he runs toward the cowering Brits, firing as he goes...

Kevin: RAAAAAARGH!

*Brakka Brakka Brakka*

Wolf: But wait, he's so mad he can't see that he's heading right for that...

*BOOM!*

Wolf:...claymore.

Fox: Ouch!

Wolf: I think I'm gonna be sick.

Fox: And in a surprisingly anticlimactic turn of events, the opposing team have eliminated themselves, making the remnants of One Direction the winners by default!

Wolf: As I'm sure they'll be delighted to learn when they emerge from cover.

Fox: We promised you blood, and you got it! Until next time, I'm Fox McCloud...

Wolf:...and I'm Wolf O'Donnell, you've been watching...

Both: SUPER. CELEBRITY. SLUGFEEEEEEEST!

Wolf: G'night everybody!

Fox: Hey speaking of remnants, somebody wanna get a mop and bucket for ol' Kevin?

Wolf: Too soon, dude!


End file.
